The Book of Firsts
by treee
Summary: A collection of stories about love, life, loneliness, and all those in between.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter rightfully belongs to J.K. Rowling and I make no profit from this.

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><p>"<em>No one can possibly know what is about to happen: it is happening, each time, for the first time, for the only time." <em>

_- James Arthur Baldwin_

Dear, lovely stranger_,_

I'd like to think that I've lived each and every day of my life without regrets, but even if the most honest man in the world were to say such a thing he'd be lying through his bloody teeth. Though I may wince here and there to a certain memory, I accept every one that I have and cherish it for the man it has molded me in to. No matter how wrong, ashamed, or guilty I may have felt about a time in my life, remembering how I felt in that moment, I lived that for a reason and the me at that time felt it was the right thing to do, or say, or be.

Now, I ask you to join me in this story of life, love, friendship, and being. To go through the hardship, the heartbreak, the joy, the excitement, and the awkward. Listen to my journey as I listen to yours; let us relive our firsts together and enjoy the present as one.

Sincerely Yours,

H.J.P.

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><p>AN: I'm sad to say that I've given up on my previous stories from two years ago. I lost my muse for both of them and have found myself changed and with different views. So, to get myself back in the writing ways Mr. H.J.P. and I invite you to something new and exciting in the fan fiction community. This will be a story of firsts, all from the eyes of the main character and each and every reader can have a part in the plot. We ask for anybody willing to share a first in their life to be interpreted by our narrator. It will be anonymous, of course, with the exception of the narrator and me. I understand how risqué this sounds, but a lot of the stories will be based off of my own firsts in life. I thank any of those who would like to join me reliving my short but wonderful past, through the laughs and the cries.<p>

If you do plan on participating, it will be in a timeline fashion: from young to old, so I do ask you to put a specific age frame in there. The first can be anything, from tying your shoe to first broken bone, to first time on your own, to your first lover. You can send me the first in a Private Message, or email if you'd feel more comfortable with that. I promise the deepest discretion with every update. Once again, I thank anybody who even considers this.

sk.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: all rights to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling *jealous* and I make no profit from this.

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><p>Dear, Lovely Reader,<p>

I may not know who you are, or what you've done in life, but I would cherish the moment to get to know you, as you will me. I suppose this shall be treated as my unofficial autobiography and it should pain me that it is recorded on bits and scraps of parchment and written in charred coal but this is considered a luxury of my time. You see, I live in a place where the sun is never seen and laughter is no longer heard, but that is of no importance to this story, nor will it ever be: the setting of my life has nothing to do with my feelings or thoughts. I only wish to share with you my wonderful years so that no matter what may happen to me, I shall live on in the thoughts of at least one person. I guess I should start from what I consider the beginning: my first memories in this life.

It wasn't as if a light switch flipped on in my hippocampus and I could automatically convert short term into long term memories. Its almost a cluster of little thoughts and pictures blending together of the same subject: a younger me, two smiling parents, and a big shaggy dog. In the recesses of my mind I can see this large, black animal jumping and bouncing happily with a ball, or laying on the floor of a child's room.

Yes, that's the most prominent. I can remember getting tucked in for the night, the friendly beast sleeping peacefully on the floor next to my bed. I see my parent's wishing sweet dreams and leaving the door cracked to let in the light from the hallway (I was too grown for an actual night light in my room). I would leave my bed when I was sure my parent's were both in their room and unable to hear me leaving my warm bed to slide onto the floor where I would cuddle up with our dog, Padfoot, and sleep uninterrupted for the rest of the night. I never remember being scolded for leaving my bed and sleeping on the drafty floor. I probably thought I was quite the crafty nipper for being able to keep a secret from mum and dad.

Padfoot was wonderful, but old and the clearest of my first memories is that of dad taking Padfoot out the door and the shaggy dog never returning. I would never see him nor would any dog be able to replace him. I cried and kicked and screamed. He was my first best friend and then my first loss.

Wonderful reader, please do not let this solemn tale deter you from going onward in my writings. I wish that this incites a happy thought or two from your childhood and encourages you to share along with me. I leave you here for now, and I bid you the most pleasant of toodleoo's.

Sincerely Yours,

H.J.P.

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><p>AN: Some will be longer than others. But right now, with my work schedule, shorter chapters will be your Haven.<p>

sk


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